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“Doctor!” he screamed, shoving the man to the ground as the bomb exploded.
The Doctor sat up, his ears ringing. He managed to walk over to the other man, who was burned almost beyond recognition, having taken the brunt of the explosion.
“Jack? Jack, c’mon,” the Doctor said, putting a hand in front of his face to see if he was breathing. He wasn’t.
He picked him up, carrying him back to the TARDIS. He managed to get the door open without setting Jack down and took him straight to his bed. It felt wrong not to take him to the medbay, but nothing in there could help him while he was dead, and none of the medicines that could help once he revived were compatible with his immortality.
He set Jack down on the bed and dug up a clean set of clothes, managing to remove the clothes that had melted to his skin, get him cleaned up, and put the clean clothes on him before he revived. The Doctor could tell that it was going to be bad, and he wanted Jack to be as comfortable as possible.
The Doctor sat on the edge of the bed and waited for Jack to come back.
After a few hours, Jack still hadn’t healed, but Jack gasped, his eyes flying open. It took his brain a moment to process his situation, but a few seconds later he let out a bloodcurdling scream, squeezing his eyes back shut and arching his back as much as he could.
“Ohmygodohgodit hurts,” he gasped, his hands scrabbling for a hold, tightly gripping the bedsheets.
The doctor grabbed both of his hands before pulling Jack against him, tucking his head into his neck and doing his best to avoid the worst of the burns. He knew that him touching them had to be horrifically painful, but he also could remember a conversation he’d had with Jack a while ago where he’d let it slip that the worst part of dying and reviving was being alone, that being alone hurt more than any of his injuries did.
Jack curled into him despite his pain, wrapping his arms tightly around the Doctor. He let out a broken sob and the Doctor tightened his grip.
“I’ve gotcha, Jack."
"It hurts, I can’t- Please, please.”
“Jack…”
“Please, you’ve gotta kill me again, I can’t do this… Please,” he begged.
“Okay, okay,” the Doctor said, very much not wanting to do this.
He gently took Jack’s head in his hands, stroking a thumb over his cheek. Jack closed his eyes and leaned into his hands.
“Can- Stay? Just- be here when…"
"I'll be here when you come back, Jack. Promise," the Doctor said softly.
"Thank you."
He looked Jack in the eyes as he snapped his neck, not breaking eye contact until the other man was gone.
The Doctor stayed, determined not to let Jack wake up alone. He knew that when he woke up again, they’d end up doing the same thing, Jack trying to hold out against the pain, the Doctor holding him, Jack giving in and begging the Doctor to kill him again, the Doctor giving in. It was a cycle and it would continue until Jack was healed or was pretty close to it. The Doctor hated it, but Jack was practically family, and the Doctor takes care of his own.